


happy hour

by ediblemomo (junnir)



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Songfic, a mess of relationships, and friendships, and more - Freeform, nine girls walk into a bar?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junnir/pseuds/ediblemomo
Summary: There’s a happy hour promotion, guys. We’re gonna have a blast.// Nine friends come together years after graduation, in a collision of relationships, friendships, drinks at a bar and feelings that are not all in the open.





	happy hour

**Author's Note:**

> i've been working on this on and off for the past 3 months and today it's finally come to completion. it's late at night, this started as a mess and probably ended as one too. but enjoy, i quite like what came out of it.
> 
> (and yes, those are song lyrics. here's a playlist [link!](https://open.spotify.com/user/junnir/playlist/7vIyAoMFfHQrpsFWhiC88H))

Happy Hour - Chapter 1/?

\\\

_It’s just a ride, it’s just a ride_

_No need to run, no need to hide_

_It will take you round and round_

_Sometimes you’re up, sometimes you’re down_

_It’s been five years since they were all last seen in one room. That is to say, it’s been five years since the oldest amongst them graduated, leaving behind the younger ones to take over the sorority they called their own._

_Five years since they last set out nine sets of cutlery for mealtimes, five years since the house was last seen that packed, that lively, that loud._

(Looking back on those days, it wasn’t much of a sorority, per se. Just a place to sleep and then a little more; a safe haven away from the hustle and bustle of campus life, away from the grabby hands of boys they barely knew and the wagging tongues of girls they’d rather not mix with; a house they could call home, where any one of them could come home to the warm and receiving arms of eight other very different girls.)

The invitation came in the mail last month, a hand-drawn card done by one (or rather, two) of the youngest. Dahyun had been a sucker for such sentimental goodies, and it didn’t surprise any of them when the Dahyun-commissioned-and-Chaeyoung-designed cards came in the mail only  _after_  they were all asked out on a group chat created by, yes, none other than Dahyun.

They RSVP-ed, as requested by the girl in question, and two weeks leading up to their gathering, they found themselves bombarded with reminders, dress code suggestions, and fun facts of the day. Just Dahyun things, to keep the conversation going (or they’d fall back into the five-year-long radio silence they’d all gotten used to by now).

(In truth, they all missed each other. But with graduation came a new phase of life to enter, and this new phase came with clashing schedules and crushing workload from all their different jobs. To think that an unbreakable group like theirs fell victim to what was none other than the enemy called adulthood. These nine girls were inseparable back in the day, and when graduation came - first for Nayeon, then for Jeongyeon, Momo and Sana... - their group became smaller, and smaller, and the buzz on the group chat died out too.

Like the last breaths of a dying soul, Chaeyoung once crooned, to the chagrin of Dahyun and Tzuyu, the only two left behind with her once Jihyo and Mina had graduated too.)

Today, they were all getting ready to meet at a local bar Dahyun recommended.

_There’s a happy hour promotion, guys. We’re gonna have a blast._

\\\

_The rain is fallin’ on my window pane_

_But we are hidin’ in a safer place_

_Under covers stayin’ dry and warm_

_You give me feelings that I adore_

_She pulls up in a beat-up, second-hand vintage classic she’d gotten at a sale, the engines screaming impossibly loud, as if to imposingly announce their long-awaited arrival to anyone who’d listen. The car serves up a rocky ride, numbness of the butt and a vague sensation of nausea._

She kills the engines and looks over, finding nothing but a girl with her messy locks strewn across the front and sides of her face. It’s a picture of  _home_ (or at least what home became after she graduated and left the sorority). She smiles quietly, thinks about how much she loves her so, and ruffles up her hair even more.

“We’re here, Momoring.”

The girl with the messy locks - her hair another victim of the long car ride - just  _Momo_  will do - looks up, her eyes glazed over with sleep. “Already?”

She can’t help but to smile at Momo. Nodding, she opens the door on her side and swings her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Momo ambles out of the car, still disoriented from the nap she’d taken on the ride (how this girl managed to sleep on a ride like that escapes her, too).

“Jeongyeon,” she whines with a slurred, sleepy voice, “wait for me!” She calls out one last time while skipping ahead to catch up with her girlfriend.

\\\

_When all of your flaws and all of my flaws are laid out one by one_

_A wonderful part of the mess that we made_

_We pick ourselves undone_

_The first to arrive at the bar, unfortunately, were_ not _Jeongyeon and Momo._

Tzuyu is the lone occupant of the two big tables Dahyun had called to reserve weeks ago. She sat there, with her straight posture and slightly intimidating aura, holding a book she’d been studying with eyes that blazed with nothing but intense concentration. She only looks up when Jeongyeon and Momo are mere steps away from the table, and only then does her straight face light up with a small smile.

“Interesting. I had expected Dahyun or Mina to arrive before you two.”

Jeongyeon scoffs, plopping down on the seat next to Tzuyu’s, before gesturing for Momo to sit next to her. Momo gladly takes the spot beside Jeongyeon, lacing her arm around the latter’s. “Dahyun and Mina  _could_  be early, but I think you forgot the fact that they’re not traveling alone.”

Momo giggles, silly-sounding and light-hearted, the same way the entire group viewed her. “Sana and Nayeon have  _never_  been early.”

Sana is Dahyun’s girlfriend, a walking ball of energy and laughter, and the first to support all of Dahyun’s antics, big or small. She’s also Momo’s best friend, and honorary sworn sister (they were all pretty much that for each other, but Sana still claimed the throne when it came to Momo, a throne nobody really wanted to usurp).

And Nayeon is Mina’s. Nayeon was no walking ball of energy and laughter, more like a human bulldozer with her many sarcastic quips, all tinged with a touch of cruel reality. Pretty much the opposite of the angel that was Mina, but nobody questioned this angel-and-devil pair, especially not when they go so well together, like pieces of a puzzle that could only fit each other. They were made for each other and that’s been a known fact since they were still in college. (Sure, they did take a while to finally get together, but the end-product of Nayeon proclaiming her love for Mina at the latter’s graduation ceremony didn’t disappoint.)

“Where’s Jihyo, though?” Jeongyeon asks. “She’s never late. Girl could be caught dead before showing up late for anything.”

“Jihyo called to say that she’d be held back for a meeting,” Tzuyu deadpans, sipping on the glass of iced water sitting calmly in front of her. “Said it was with the CEO, or something.”

Jeongyeon raises a brow. “Wow. She’s really killing it.”

“She sure is. Last I heard, she was on the fast-track for a promotion. Maybe tonight’s her night.”

Momo gasps, the sudden exclamation a reminder that she was still around, right beside them. “Guys, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jeongyeon and Tzuyu stare at her in silence, which was usually the case whenever Momo reacted like this out of nowhere. Not even her girlfriend could guess her right, but it wasn’t that bad a thing. Momo wasn’t an enigma by any means, she was just... Unpredictable. In a good way, Jeongyeon could say.

The slight tension and bated breaths were broken when Momo beams, her eyes crinkling into little curves. “Tonight’s drinks will be on Jihyo!”

Just then, the protagonist of their conversation comes storming through the front doors of the bar, the glass double doors sure to have fallen off its hinges if not for the fact that Jihyo still had some restraint left inside of her - not much, though. Momo zips her mouth shut immediately and Jeongyeon gets up to pull out a chair for Jihyo.

“You don’t seem happy.”

“Damn right I’m not!”

Jihyo snags Tzuyu’s glass before the latter could even protest, and she takes a big gulp of water. On the other end of the table, Momo pouts, eyes darting from Jihyo’s angry expression to Jeongyeon and Tzuyu’s stone-faced selves.

Guess drinks are on nobody tonight, then.

\\\

_You say life is a dream where we can’t say what we mean_

_Maybe just some roadside scene that we’re driving past_

_There’s no telling where we’ll be, in a day or in a week_

_And there’s no promises of peace, or of happiness_

_The remaining five enter in droves only moments after Jihyo’s arrival. Soon, the entire table was occupied, abuzz with the chatter of nine friends who haven’t been seen in one place since five years ago._

Jeongyeon talks about her chain of cafes, a business co-owned with her sister and parents after the entire family decided they were bored and needed something to do. Momo tells everyone about the dance academy she works at, and the numerous students she meets on the daily.

Nayeon whines, and whines, and  _whines_  about the different people she has to meet everyday, as the self-made entrepreneur of a start-up dealing with fashion. Mina listens mostly, but she does chime in from time to time, and only an hour into the gathering do they finally find out that she’s actually a teacher now.

Sana just laughs a lot at what the others say, making her the best audience member of the night, only occasionally stopping to feed Dahyun some fries. Dahyun doesn’t talk much about her job, claiming it’s nothing more than a boring nine-to-five, instead opting to make jokes (some unbelievably crude, but still appreciated by the likes of Jeongyeon and Nayeon).

Chaeyoung rants about the system, the failing government and the neglected arts scene (and Mina makes a quiet comment that nobody really catches about Chaeyoung being  _such a typical hipster_ ). Tzuyu tunes out of the conversation from time to time to read her book instead, but her plans are foiled by Nayeon after the latter makes a snarky remark or two too many, inciting and unleashing Tzuyu’s inner beast.

Jihyo’s the quietest of the bunch, choosing instead to drown her silent anger in a few mugs of beer. Several mugs later, she’s the only one talking as she starts her tirade against nepotism in the workplace right then and there, ranting to her heart’s content about losing her promotion to some higher-up’s cousin’s goldfish’s daughter in the middle of a bar during happy hour.

Oh, how happy this happy hour could be.

This was a reunion five long years in the making.

\\\

_Only love can hurt like this_

_Your kisses burn into my skin_

_Only love can hurt like this_

_The makeshift jukebox stationed in the middle of the bar was blaring some nondescript, top 40s hit that fell short of Jeongyeon’s palate. She took the chance to slip off to the restroom, informing only Momo of her absence with a small kiss to the cheek._

The beer was a run-of-the-mill kind, the kind that warmed her insides but didn’t hit her strong enough, or at all. She appreciated the warmth that the drink brought, coupled with Momo’s fingers drawing circles on the inside of her palm, and it made for a good experience that night.

Except for the fact that something was bugging her, and she hadn’t yet found out what it was.

She let the water run over her hands mindlessly, taking the time to study her own face and how much it’s evolved in the past few years.

Seeing the girls again after all this time made all of them a little more aware of how much they’ve aged, matured and changed over the past years. Of how they all made the first step out into adulthood, a world beyond which they could imagine, into unexplored territory they could either thrive or crumble in.

And nobody talks about it, but as each second passed, they all found themselves missing the yesteryear more and more.

It’s right in the middle of her little moment of remembrance when the doors to the bathroom burst open, and in stumbles a tipsy Nayeon.

She could be sober for all Jeongyeon knew; that blush on her cheeks was always deceptive as hell.

“Hey,” Jeongyeon greets, only turning off the faucet now. She dries her hands using the napkins beside the basin, preparing to make her way out of the bathroom so that Nayeon could use it in privacy.

An arm reaches out, snaking around Jeongyeon’s arm, before she could even take a step towards the door.

“That’s a disappointing greeting,” Nayeon breathes, the alcohol heavy in her tone.

Yes, this was probably a tipsy Nayeon.

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, turning to face the girl. But she doesn’t remove Nayeon’s arm from hers. “You know I don’t aim to please.”

Nayeon laughs drily, using her grip on Jeongyeon to steady herself. Then she edges closer towards the latter, and the malodorous stench of cheap beer is suddenly heavy in the air around the both of them.

“That’s fine by me,” Nayeon chimes, “but I really thought you’d offer more than that, y’know.”

“What were you thinking I’d offer?”

Nayeon looks straight into Jeongyeon’s eyes, her gaze firm, hard, burning into the latter’s eyes, and in that moment Jeongyeon wondered if she was sober all along, just pretending to be tipsy so that alcohol could be her defense.

Jeongyeon knows her answer; she just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Not when Nayeon’s standing right in front of her in a cramped bathroom, their seven other friends (some  _girlfriends_ ) waiting outside without even a single semblance of knowledge of what was going on inside here.

“Never mind,” Nayeon mutters after a second too long. Her arm falls from Jeongyeon’s, and she stumbles away to enter a cubicle behind her.

(Jeongyeon found out what was bugging her.)

Nayeon hits the wall when she feels a gentle shove to the small of her back. She spins around, back flat against the cool marble, as Jeongyeon kicks the cubicle door shut. Now they were in an even more cramped cubicle, and it’s only thanks to god that neither of them were claustrophobic.

“You’re terrible at lying,” Jeongyeon snaps. Nayeon doesn’t even manage an eye-roll, or even one of her trademark quips, before Jeongyeon shuts her up swiftly.

Their lips crash messily against each other’s, they couldn’t get the angle right, but  _fuck that, fuck all of that_. Nayeon reaches for Jeongyeon’s thighs, finding themselves stuck in an awkward position but honestly, neither of them still cared.

The night’s still young. Happy hour’s far from over.

\\\

_She’s got you high, and you don’t even know yet_

_She’s got you high, and you don’t even know yet_

_The sun’s in the sky, it’s warming up your bare legs_

_You can’t deny you’re looking for the sunset_

_With every new tune the jukebox grinds out, Dahyun complies with her beer bottle microphone, making up random lyrics and screaming them at the top of her lungs._

Sana laughs by her side. Their hands are close enough to touch, but only just close enough.

The songs blare on, track by track, and the night crawls past, inch by inch. It’s moving at a pace much too slow for Sana, who wasn’t a drinker to begin with. It’s made worse by merit of the fact that the rest were enjoying themselves, the alcohol only serving to kickstart their long-dormant fun, rowdy, college-aged selves.

She laughs along, she laughs a lot, (that’s Sana for you) but the laughs aren’t real (or, at least, that  _was_ Sana for you, once upon a time) and she hopes nobody notices.

And she’s almost sure nobody notices, until she feels the spot next to her - previously Nayeon’s, but that girl was gone an awful long time in the restroom, probably to throw up or something - sink down with the weight of a new occupant. She turns to her side, hardly curious and barely bothered, and sees her best friend, trademark lazy grin at the ready and beautiful brown hair falling across the nicely-sculpted features of her round little face, and suddenly she cares again.

“You enjoying yourself, best friend?”

Sana offers up a well-rehearsed chuckle for the girl, her free hand - not the one next to Dahyun’s - reaching up for a light pat on Momo’s arm. “Of course I am, best friend.”

The music blares on, Dahyun’s obnoxiously loud singing still going strong in the background. Sana lets her mind run free for a while as Momo went about her usual dealings, picking up a fry and popping it between her lips. Momo’s still invested in the conversation happening at the table, eyes barely anywhere in Sana’s direction. Sana, meanwhile, just stares, studies and takes in the sight of her best friend right before her.

After seven seconds (nobody was keeping count, nobody but Sana), Momo finally turns to her.

“I saw a swing outside on my way in. Want to go hop on later?”

(A hitched breath, a skip in her heartbeat, the sudden erratic pulse. If you could spell the word ‘trouble’ with three occurrences, it would be these three.)

At the mention of a swing, Sana remembers.

Sana remembers all the times they used to sneak out to the playground on campus (a five-minute walk from their sorority house, a walk Sana remembers all too well, from the little curves in the road to the number of trees that lined that path, to the person she’d take these walks with). They always sneak out a little too late at night, just to - as they used to sagely profess - talk about life. Really, they were two carefree college students who didn’t have much running through their heads, who just wanted to spend some time together talking about anything under the sun - which was  _life_ , as they reasoned. She remembers them swinging along on the rickety, rusty swing, each creak louder than the one before, their hands floating in mid-air in the space between them, close enough to touch. (They did.)

Sana remembers graduation all too well. She, Momo and Jeongyeon - all born in the same year, yet they couldn’t have been more different - had one of the best graduations ever, complete with a party thrown in their sorority house by the younger ones (assisted by an unwilling Nayeon, of course, who joined the festivities only via Skype). But despite the booze and crazy dancing that night, Sana couldn’t have felt more torn apart about leaving the girls. (About leaving Momo.)

(Momo remembers feeling just as torn apart as Sana did. But she hid away from the rest to cry in the bathroom, for fear that her tears would trigger waterworks of Sana’s own. Her fears weren’t unfounded, because Sana found herself crying in the next bathroom, just a floor above Momo.

Sana thought she saw a hint of tears in the corner of Momo’s eyes when she left the bathroom. But Sana chose to ignore it.)

Sana remembers reasoning with herself why she felt so torn apart about graduating. Was it the thought of entering the workforce, becoming a working adult, a full-fledged adult, of entering the next phase of life she clearly wasn’t ready for? (Yes. Yes. Yes, that must be it - and that was all Sana chanted to herself the night before they were due to leave the sorority house.)

(But Sana remembers giving up on trying to convince herself of a lie she wouldn’t ever believe. There was never any reasoning needed, not when the truth behind her sadness was the very fact that she had to get used to no longer having something she was just so used to having by her side everyday.

In this case, it was Momo.)

Sana remembers the last few nights they spent together in the sorority house; they remember the mixture of tears and giggles, of pinky promises and well wishes.

Sana remembers the very last night, when they snuck out to the swing they called their own again, but only after everyone else had fallen asleep.

That night, coupled with a few other nights, were the nights that Sana didn’t (want to) remember, but always will. Those nights were the nights they came close to making a mistake, or  _mistakes_ , and Sana would do anything to erase the existence of these nights from her memory. (But that was a blatant lie, because Sana wasn’t good at telling the truth about this  _friendship_  of hers.)

And at the very thought of mistakes, Sana remembers that she’d been staring into Momo’s eyes the entire time.

“Sure,” the word comes tumbling out of Sana’s lips involuntarily.

Momo smiles, seemingly satisfied with Sana’s answer, then appears to get up to return to her original seat. But before she does, she reaches out to put a hand onto Sana’s free one (not the one next to Dahyun’s). “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Sana just nods, words failing to leave her lips this time round.

(She doesn’t miss the little glance Momo throws in Dahyun’s direction.)

(But Sana chooses to ignore it.)

When the song changes again, this time, Dahyun stops singing. She takes a swig of her beer before finally turning to Sana. It’s probably the first time that night they’ve interacted since stepping into the bar.

“Sana,” Dahyun calls out suddenly, her eyes narrowly avoiding the former’s. “Dahyun,” Sana replies, almost robotically.

“Do you want to take a breather outside? Just for a while.”

Seconds later, they’re getting up to go outside.

(Momo’s eyes follow the pair as they head outside.)

(But Sana chooses to ignore it.)

\\\

_So_ _we’re slaves to any semblance of touch_

_Lord we should cool it_

_But we love it too much_

_The air smells of a kind of dread unique to only the two of them. They’re struggling to keep their balance in the limited confines of a dingy little restroom cubicle, but Nayeon calls it quits first and pushes past Jeongyeon to leave._

She fixes her hair, clothes and make-up in the mirror, wiping off the smudges of her lipstick. When she’s about done, she doesn’t stop to even cast a glance in Jeongyeon’s direction (the latter had been leaning against the doorway of the cubicle, staring at her in silence). She turns on her heels and makes to leave, suddenly all too sober to feel ready for the crowd outside.

Jeongyeon chooses that very moment to step out of the cubicle. “That’s it?”

Nayeon stops but doesn’t turn around to address Jeongyeon. “What else were you expecting? A Hollywood ending?”

“Anything more than a shove would’ve been great,” Jeongyeon spits back.

Nayeon sighs, folds her arms and finally chooses to give Jeongyeon the luxury of a face-to-face confrontation. “Look, we’re clearly not good with the hi’s and bye’s,” she says, eyes boring into Jeongyeon’s.

Nayeon was great at changing her mood on command, along with the atmosphere that came with her mood. And now, she was choosing to act all unbothered, jaded, as if she was tired of being kept in this stupid restroom of a bar. Which, she was, but she wasn’t going to point out that being kept here with Jeongyeon made it all the better for some reason.

“But I never pegged you to be the kind who cared for that sort of pleasantries,” Nayeon continues. “After all, isn’t it what happens in the middle that really matters?”

Jeongyeon doesn’t find a way to respond to that.

“Let’s not be babies about it. Our girlfriends are waiting outside,” Nayeon finishes, her thumb jabbing in the direction of the door. With that, she starts to make her way out.

“Do you think they know about us?”

Nayeon stops an inch by the door, fingers hovering above the handle. She turns her head just an inch to the right, but decides against looking at the girl standing alone behind her, for fear that she’d stay put against her better judgement. There’s a sinking, depressing feel nested deep within her chest and she chooses not to act on it, not to even acknowledge it, because she was Nayeon and Nayeon wasn’t weak. Not like Jeongyeon was at this very moment.

“Sweet, if you truly cared,” she glances at the girl behind her, “you should’ve asked this back when we first started.” She takes a deep breath, almost afraid to exhale for fear of herself sounding shaky. “Not when we’re this far in.”

It’s easy for Nayeon not to think about Mina whenever she’s with Jeongyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the girl; Mina was an angel, rightfully so, and Nayeon’s heart beats in a way it only does for Mina whenever she’s with her.

But that’s just it; because Nayeon’s heart beats in a way it only does for Jeongyeon whenever she’s with her, too.

It’s almost sad, in a way, that her public confession to Mina during the latter’s graduation ceremony was that heavily celebrated, when back in the day, Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s short-lived relationship had received zero fanfare, and even lesser acknowledgement. Sure, it was a choice they both made not to tell anyone about their relationship, but Nayeon herself couldn’t help but feel bad at the glaring difference between these two relationships of hers.

It’s also sad, in a way, that Nayeon and Jeongyeon didn’t end their relationship because their relationship ended. Instead, theirs was a relationship dictated by deadlines, all the hard facts and figures - the fact being Nayeon’s impending graduation and the figure being the date Nayeon was slated to leave the sorority house.

And for a relationship that ended like theirs did, there were no tied-up loose ends to brag about; instead, what they got in return was a mixture of unresolved issues, stray belongings left behind in each other’s possession that never let the other person truly forget about them, subsequent meetings to return said possessions, and the tension only ex-lovers of their kind could harbor. Those subsequent meetings turned into something more, blew up into something far beyond their control ( _what a way to soothe the consciences of two adulterers_ , Nayeon thinks), and now here they were, inches apart in a cramped bathroom of a sub-standard bar.

Nayeon knew she was no angel, and that Mina - the bonafide angel - probably deserved better. Someday, Nayeon thinks, she’ll feel guilty for all of this, for trying to have the cake and to eat it too. (But only someday.)

But Jeongyeon - she was different from Nayeon. She was prone to the sin of overthinking, of doubting herself and those around her, of only pretending to be strong so she hadn’t had to appear vulnerable in front of anyone. (Anyone but Nayeon.)

It’s easy for Nayeon not to think about Mina, but the same couldn’t be said about Jeongyeon.

Momo was a ray of sunshine that came into Jeongyeon’s life with a mission; to weed out any and all possible sources of unhappiness in the latter’s life. Like Nayeon and Mina, their relationship only happened after graduation, and from Nayeon’s vague recollection, she thinks she’s heard Mina bring up once that Momo bumped into Jeongyeon at a cafe one fine day and they hit it off from there. Typical, Nayeon sneers, and cliched, she sneers again.

And on Jeongyeon’s part, she at least knew why it wasn’t easy for her not to think about Momo. Because of her own folly, she mistakenly thought that she was over Nayeon when she embarked on a new journey with Momo, thinking that she had discarded every single trace of Nayeon from her heart and mind. She only realized later, with Nayeon’s breath hot against her skin and weight of her body pulling her down deeper into the abyss of no return that was her tryst with Nayeon, that it was impossible to discard what was already  _inside_ of you.

  
Nayeon was a poison Jeongyeon couldn’t - wouldn’t - rid herself of.

Because Jeongyeon would rather go under, than reach the surface of the water to breathe, if she had to be without her poison.

(For what it’s worth, though Nayeon would rather die than admit it aloud, she’d rather go under too.)

“Jeong,” Nayeon called out, her voice a little more restrained than usual.

“Yeah?”

“There’s lipstick all over you. Clean up before you go out.”

\\\

_Lost cities, what a pity_

_No one knows when it’s time_

_To accept a lost love and say goodbye_

_Till death, till death, till death do we part_

_Till death, till the death of a failing love_

_The air outside is warmer than usual, the telltale signs of the warmest summer they were experiencing. Cars were pulling up into the driveway in the far distance, people were coming and going and the doors to the bar never remained shut._

Dahyun is ahead of Sana, choosing to take a seat on the swing, gesturing vaguely for Sana to follow suit. The latter does as she is told, quietly situating herself beside Dahyun.

“What a night, huh.”

Sana turns to look at Dahyun and sees a fairly calm expression on her face, a little smile the only indication of how Dahyun was feeling in that moment.

“Yeah, I really missed all of them.”

She doesn’t put too much thought into Dahyun’s calm expression and whether or not she was truly feeling that calm on the inside. Sana thinks for a moment if she should go on to compliment the younger girl for a job well done with the reunion, but Dahyun goes on before she could.

“Makes you think about what’s really changed since then, doesn’t it?”

The older girl doesn’t need to be told twice to know that Dahyun wasn’t referring to the nine of them. She looks down, biting back a sigh, and kicks at the gravel beneath her feet.

“Where do we go from here, Dahyun?”

“We haven’t talked about us yet.” Dahyun looks at her, the little smile disappearing into a tight-lipped frown. “What happened to us, Sana?”

“The same thing that happens to everybody,” Sana answers, still carefully studying the gravel under her soles. The rhythmic cracks of the fragments she stepped on was oddly calming, for some reason. Coupled with the sound of engines revving in the background, it was easy for her to sink into her surroundings and distance herself away from the turmoil within.

“We grew up.”

They hadn’t planned on bringing this up today, not in the presence of their seven other friends during a five-year-long reunion. But today, it was Dahyun who breached the topic first, instead of the usual option that was Sana.

Growing up was a painful process, they both came to realize. And it’s a process that never stops, not even when you think you’re old enough to do something you previously couldn’t do before, or even when people start looking at you different because you’re  _of age_ , whatever that meant.

Growing up doesn’t necessarily mean watching your age count go up by one every year. Growing up, they realized, can take on many different forms.

Like their relationship falling apart, for example.

(A year after Sana’s graduation, she was out roaming the streets, killing some free time before heading to meet Momo for dinner. She hadn’t been looking while crossing one of the busiest crossings in town, and straight she went crashing into Dahyun’s frame.

They nursed their little blacks and blues over a conversation and a stroll down the street they were on. And since then, they haven’t been apart for more than a few minutes.

The devil that mandated growing up as a process of life only reared its ugly horns when Sana moved in with Dahyun months ago, and every little crack and unravelling they had tried so desperately to ignore before that had come together in what was one of the worst arguments any couple could ever have.

Forced to grow up and face the reality of their relationship, they realized that there was no way they could continue sweeping just about everything under the rug, thinking that they could lie their way into believing their own lies someday. The warning signs were flashing neon in their faces, yet they chose to challenge the limits of reality to see if they could continue on together. The verdict was out; they couldn’t.

There were no raised hands, only raised voices, but Sana realizes that night that sometimes, raised voices hurt more than raised hands did.

How much could raised hands hurt anyway, when the words that came from Dahyun were  _I’m not in love with you anymore_?)

It had been a month since then. Their little encounter ended with an expressionless Sana making her way out of the apartment, pretty much a dead body walking. She stumbled all the way to the neighborhood where Momo lived - with Jeongyeon, no less - but that was the furthest she got. To the neighborhood, and not anywhere more than that. She couldn’t find it within her to make her way to her best friend, to the girl who always knew how to make her feel like everything was right with the world, even if the sky was falling or the world was ending.

(She puts a call through to the girl instead, but even then, her voice wasn’t helping her situation. She hung up after twelve seconds - Sana had been counting - of silence from Sana’s end, of Momo’s confused hello’s and are you okay’s, of Sana desperately trying to conjure a story that Momo would buy and of Momo already having heard enough to know that something was off with Sana.)

Dahyun clears her throat just then, and Sana wonders if she had missed Dahyun’s response to her statement. It’s clear she hasn’t, when Dahyun’s scrunches up her face thinking of what she could possibly say in response to Sana.

“Dahyun,” Sana calls out, her voice gently carried by the warm breeze of the night. It was sad, really, that Sana’s voice could ever sound this broken and tragic, because everyone who knew Sana knew her as the exact opposite of those two words.

“It’s okay.”

That’s all it takes to break the dam within Dahyun, and with reddened eyes she looks up at the older girl. “Sana,” she ekes out, her voice already trembling with the threat of a million tears.

“We grew up. Everybody does,” Sana goes on, finding it within her to give Dahyun that same smile that swept the girl off her feet back then. “Us ending doesn’t mean it’s the end.”

Never in a million years could anyone imagine Sana being the one to initiate the break-up.

But then again, never in a million years could anyone imagine Dahyun to be the one who fell out of love first.

“Besides, you know I love you, Dahyun. I always will, and I like to imagine that you always will love me too.”

“Forever,” is the only word Dahyun manages to get out of her system as Sana goes on.

Sana’s heart breaks, but for what exactly, she doesn’t know. The heaviness in her chest is weighing her down, almost as if it could choke her into unconsciousness, but at the same time, it was lifting and leaving her chest, testament to her letting go. Sana struggles to make sense of what was happening, but she thinks to herself that it was never supposed to make sense, not love, not any of this.

“Is this our break-up?” The younger girl asks, rousing Sana out of her reverie.

Sana manages a small smile, reaches forward to wipe the tears that were fast flowing down Dahyun’s face. She thumbs Dahyun’s cheek, traces along the line of her jaw, before leaning forward to give Dahyun one last kiss. Probably the kiss that hurts the most, she thinks.

“Like I said, it’s us growing up.”

Sana ignores the weird feeling in her chest, the one where the heaviness couldn’t decide if it wanted to weigh her down or leave her system entirely. She ignores it, suppresses it, and guesses that the best word to summarize it was bittersweet.

She gets up, dusting herself off. More gravel crunches beneath her shoes. She pats Dahyun on the head once, and turns to head back in.

“I’ll tell them you drank too much. Take all the time you need,” Sana offers in kind.

She walks the lonely road back, thinking that it’s weird how a break-up feels.

 _Oh well._  At least the ruse was over, and they needn’t spend the rest of the night struggling with their pretense that all was fine between them.

Sana smiles to herself when she recalls how Dahyun first brought up the idea of pretending that they were fine. Said it was for the reunion, said they shouldn’t make the rest feel awkward.

She smiles, because she hadn’t realized that Dahyun was as afraid as she was to suggest a break-up. If only she knew the girl a little better, then the night might’ve gone a little smoother.

If only she knew the girl a little better; this relationship might’ve gone in a different way, too.

\\\

_The world may think I’m foolish_

_They can’t see you_

_Like I can_

_Oh, but anyone_

_Who knows what love is_

_Will understand_

_Mina thinks it mustn’t be normal to fancy someone just this much. To love and to be in love were two different things, that much she knew, but how could someone possibly feel an emotion this intense, and let it be reduced to nothing more than a four-lettered word?_

Her fingers are laced with hers, right where they fit best. She gives the hand a squeeze, as if to reassure the other girl of her presence, and feeling the warm touch of the girl beside her was a reminder to herself that  _this_  was real - every bit of it, every bit of what she felt, every bit of what she felt at seeing what she saw. She leans her head on the girl’s shoulder, taking in the warmth of her being by her side, feeling utterly thankful for the living reminder that she wasn’t dreaming.

Real life had a way of catching her off-guard at times, and it’s in moments like these when she thinks that the unreal parts of real life are what makes it  _real_.

How unreal the effect was, of her presence in her proximity. How she felt a clenching of the muscle in her chest, simply by merit of the fact that she was right there, right in front of her, a real person in flesh and blood, in all her daunting glory and beauty.

And yet, she couldn’t have her.

Mina watches quietly, not saying a word or even making the slightest of sounds, as Jeongyeon launches into another story the instant she sat back down at the table. She watches quietly, as an ominous, stirring feeling at the bottom of the pit that was her stomach started to take its effect; as Momo laces her fingers with Jeongyeon’s, the same way hers were laced with Nayeon’s, and as Momo leans in close to Jeongyeon, her head buried in the nook of Jeongyeon’s neck. Jeongyeon’s listening to someone else around the table now, but Mina doesn’t care, not as she notices how Momo’s lips move against Jeongyeon’s neck and she thinks that an emotion like jealousy shouldn’t be reduced to nothing more than an eight-lettered word as well.

Nayeon, her dearest and most beautiful girlfriend, turns her head by an inch, her warm breath already felt by Mina on the top of her head. Nayeon’s about to say something, Mina guesses, but she doesn’t stop to give Nayeon a chance to. She angles her head up and catches Nayeon’s slightly-parted lips in an unexpected kiss. Her tongue reaches the borders of Nayeon’s lips, but the latter catches up and soon is way ahead of Mina, as her hands run wild on Mina’s torso.

Oh, how easy it was for Mina to just blame all of this on alcohol. What a great defense it was, really; the perfect answer to justify her jealous reaction at Momo and Jeongyeon’s flirtation, to justify her reaction in a way that was predictably and expectedly  _Mina_.

Mina wonders how it must feel like to be the person Jeongyeon thinks of when she thinks of the intense emotion called love.

She bites down on Nayeon’s bottom lip, drawing a whimper from the latter. She still has one eye trained on Momo, Jeongyeon’s dearest and most beautiful girlfriend, and she watches how Jeongyeon turns to kiss Momo as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

She feels Nayeon’s hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in even deeper, essentially making sure she couldn’t continue watching Momo and Jeongyeon out the corner of her eye. She lets Nayeon pull her in, and she tries her hardest not to imagine that it’s Jeongyeon she was kissing. (She fails.)

In times like these, she’s thankful she has Nayeon. Without her, Mina doesn’t know what she’d do with all these emotions for Jeongyeon. She’s bitter when it comes to Momo; Mina would like to point out that her feelings for Jeongyeon originated from that damned sorority house, and Momo was just someone who swooped in later on and had her work cut out for her.

But thank god for Nayeon. Thank god for Nayeon, who keeps her sane - or as sane as can be - who allows Mina to continue living out each day with someone to call her own.

Even if it isn’t Jeongyeon.

Mina thinks sadly, as Nayeon’s fingers trace shapes carelessly along her nape, her lips still ravaging hers, that Nayeon probably deserves better.

But she thinks sadly, that she herself deserves Jeongyeon too.

\\\

_What if to say, what if to say you don’t go_

_What if to say, what if to say you don’t leave_

_Me all alone_

_A half hour later, Dahyun’s back in her seat, back to the way she was earlier on. Sana’s the only one who notices how her voice is a tad bit different, her eyes a little clouded. Sana’s hand is no longer hovering near Dahyun’s, in that odd limbo of touch-or-no-touch, and for the first time that night, Sana downs her beer rather easily._

She catches Momo’s eye mid-sip, and Momo smiles faintly, jabbing a finger in the direction of the door, reminding Sana of their appointment at the swing.

Sana catches up with Momo, who’s already halfway out the door after she gave Jeongyeon a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

The swing creaks like it’s been there for a million years, last touched maybe a few centuries ago, and it wobbles unsteadily as Momo takes a seat. After checking the integrity of the structure, she puts a thumbs-up out for Sana, beckoning for the latter to join her.

Sana remembers how it felt like five years ago, when they still had the campus’ swing to call their own. Sana remembers, and she feels choked up at how familiar this whole scene was. How welcoming and comforting Momo’s presence was, as if everything was all right with the world.

She plants herself down on the spot next to Momo, and just like old times, their hands met in mid-air, touching.

“It’s been a while.” Momo starts speaking first, and it gets the ball rolling.

Sana thinks back to the last time she saw Momo, and she remembers how she still had so much to gush about Dahyun back then. It must have been before she moved in with the latter, so in other words, the last time she saw Momo was before the beginning of the end.

If she had to admit it, Momo’s presence through the hard times would have been an invaluable source of comfort and strength. Maybe if Momo had been around to help her through it, she would’ve managed to pull through with Dahyun after all.

(But if Momo had been around, Sana would never have been able to commit herself to Dahyun, would she?

 _Selfish,_ Sana recalls chiding herself, y _ou’re so selfish, Sana._ She forces herself to scroll past Momo’s contact, eyes red and damp and glazed over with a waterfall of tears.

 _You’ve been nothing but selfish._ )

Sana just hums in affirmation, the only response she could manage to give Momo.

(When Momo looks at Sana, eyes a little off and unreadable, Sana wonders if Momo could’ve possibly known.)

“So how’s you and Dahyun?”

(If she did, it didn’t show in her voice.)

Sana shifts her weight around, the swing’s entire structure swaying gently with her movements. She feels a squeeze of her hand ( _it’s okay, you can tell me_ ), and turns to see Momo urging her to go on with those big, round eyes doing all the pleading necessary.

(She’s always been a victim of those eyes.)

“We broke up,” Sana whispers, almost involuntarily.

It shows on Momo’s face, her entire emotional process going from confusion to sadness to pity to confusion again. Then she sees a hint of anger, a hint of frustration, and Sana’s heart breaks more than she ever thought it could.

“You didn’t think of telling me anything at all?”

 _Oh, no._  “Momo, I...”

“So it’s true? You don’t need me anymore?”

_What?_

Sana realizes belatedly that she was thinking aloud, after Momo lets go of her hand and gets up from the swing, as if to walk away. (But Momo doesn’t walk away from Sana; Momo never would.)

“Admit it, Sana. The last time we talked was  _months_  ago and then nothing. Radio silence! It’s like your connection to the outside world died when you moved in with Dahyun.”

(If by outside world she meant  _the girl who meant the world to her_ , then Momo was right on all counts.) Sana wanted to defend herself. She gets up from the swing in an act of protest, ready to spit venom back at her accuser. But the words fail her, because she thinks to herself that Momo was right.

But not for the right reasons.

“We only broke up half an hour ago.”

The air between them smells of engine exhaust and crisp summer scents. Sana pauses and inhales, to take it all in and remind herself of where she was at the moment, of  _who_  she was at the moment. ( _Newly single, a girl someone fell out of love with, desperately and pathetically and begrudgingly and denyingly in love with her best friend._ ) Then a light, flowery fragrance wafts into her nose, she hears gravel crunching under moving feet, and she feels two arms wrap around her. Only then does she realize her eyes had been shut the whole time, and that her best friend was now standing in front of her, holding her as best as she could to try to mend the broken pieces.

“I’m sorry,” came Momo’s small and remorseful voice.

She doesn’t manage to get another word out of her because she was too busy noticing how her blood was running faster, her heartbeat resonating so much louder, and her hands shaking just a little too much for her to reciprocate the  _damned_  hug.

“You should’ve told me.” She runs her hand up and down her best friend’s back in soothing strokes, and Sana just about feels like dying.

“Yeah. I guess I should’ve.”

“I’ll be here for you, you know that, don’t you?” She pulls away, arms still protectively wrapped around her. Her eyes bore into the girl on the swing’s.

_And I’ll be damned._

Sana nods, fingers clenching under the worn-out seat of the swing, unseen by her best friend who had just sworn her loyalty to her.

It was all she could do not to reach out and hug her back. Because if she did, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to let go.

This wasn’t too bad, anyway. At least she promised to be here. At least this way, she’d still be by her side.

Sana takes what she can get. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

When Momo pulls Sana in again, the latter’s head flops gently upon Momo’s middle. The tears come, thoroughly soaking through Momo’s fabric. It’s alright if Momo doesn’t know  _why_  she’s crying; she lets her think of Dahyun instead.

(Especially not a  _desperate, pathetic, begrudging and denying_ beggar.)

\\\

_You’re gone from here_

_And soon you will disappear_

_Fading into beautiful light_

_‘Cause everybody’s changing_

_And I don’t feel the same_

_The night ends with Jihyo downing her last mug, slamming the glass hard on the wooden table. Tzuyu makes a feeble attempt to lessen the impact by grabbing the mug mid-air but it doesn’t work, and her annoyance shows. Chaeyoung smiles, then dissolves into a messy fit of giggles. Jihyo laughs for a bit, too, but she too flops onto the table along with her glass. Dahyun looks at Tzuyu; both nod._

“Okay, guys, I think we’ll have to call it a night.”

Jeongyeon looks up from the bowl of nuts she was peering into and shoots a disappointed glare at Dahyun. The latter responds by flicking an arm in Jihyo’s direction, her face reading of a  _see for yourself_ expression. “Lady boss here is knocked out cold. Chaeyoung’s soon to be a goner, too.” She pats Tzuyu on the arm. “Maknae and I will take them home.”

“What about Sana?” Jeongyeon follows up with, rapid-fire quick.

Momo clears her throat. “We can take her home, Jeong. Tzuyu’s going to need Dahyun’s help, anyway.”

Sana throws a glance in Momo’s direction, silently murmuring a  _thank you_ , and Momo doesn’t respond, only squeezes Sana’s hand once under the table. (The inconsequential gesture causes a hitched breath and a skipped heartbeat, anyway.)

Jeongyeon concedes, nods. She doesn’t miss the way Nayeon looks at her for a fleeting second. Then she stands up, dusting herself off of peanut dust. “Guess it’s time to go, then.”

Mina stands up too, pulling Nayeon up with her. “It was great seeing all of you tonight.” She reaches out ( _a last desperate attempt_ ) to give Jeongyeon a light tap on the shoulder. “Have a safe ride back, Jeongyeon.”

The latter smiles back at her, before gesturing for Momo and Sana to follow her. “Shall we, ladies?”

Dahyun and Tzuyu carry Jihyo and Chaeyoung out. Jeongyeon follows suit, with Momo and Sana trailing behind her. The last to leave were Mina and Nayeon.

Mina looks at Nayeon, notices the way her eyes don’t meet hers and are instead fixated on the ground. “You alright, babe?”

Nayeon’s insides churn. “I’m fine.” She looks up and gives her usual million dollar smile at her girlfriend. “Must be that stomach upset earlier.”

“Yeah, it kept you inside the restroom quite a while. Think you can make it back home in one piece?”

  
She laughs and laces her arm around Mina’s before tucking her head in the crook of her neck. She kisses Mina once on the jaw and once right beside her lips. “I think I’ll be fine with you around.”

Mina smiles, then looks back at the way ahead of her. Jeongyeon was no longer around, and she doesn’t miss the way her heart drops by an inch.

“We should do this again sometime, huh?”

On Jeongyeon’s car, Momo traded in her front seat in favor of the one beside Sana’s in the back. Jeongyeon revs up the engine, then chuckles a bit. “The ride’s gonna be a wild one, Sana. Hold on tight, yeah?”

Sana opens her mouth to say something, but Momo beats her to it. “I’ve got you.” She smiles at her best friend, squeezes her hand tightly once more, and hates how painfully accurate those words were.

Night sky disappearing far behind them, Sana’s hand safely tucked in the comforting grip of Momo’s, the beat-up car drives off, the tune of Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) blaring from the broken radio accompanying them on the way home.

_Sweet dreams are made of this_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_I travel the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody’s looking for something_

**Author's Note:**

> liked what you read? leave a kudos or comment! and of course, as always, thanks for reading :)
> 
> also i'm sorry if the tags lied to you and your ship didn't get a happy ending. i mean if the word 'happy' is in the title the story usually ends up straying quite far away from that concept......
> 
> hit me up @ediblemomo on twitter if you fancy a chat! <3


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